Of Milkshakes and Mamochans
by amethysth
Summary: He was the only one who could get under her skin. She never ceased to make him lose his cool. In spite of everything—no matter what they did—fate was hellbent on making their worlds collide. A series of unrelated Usagi/Mamoru drabbles.
1. they constantly danced around each other

_Author's Note: Er...hi. So I'm pretty sure that the Sailor Moon fandom that still remembers me hates me... *hides* I'm so sorry for never... updating anything. To be honest, after my computer crashed and the Sailor Moon fandom started to dwindle and university started to become really unbearable, I lost any motivation or inspiration I ever had to write anything. I can't promise I'll get it back, but I never did abandon the SM fandom. With the manga re-releases, some awesome new fics I've never encountered before (I've been browsing the archives like a madwoman and discovering some unappreciated amazing fics written over the past five years), my personal mission to rewatch the entire anime and maybe finally give PGSM a chance, Sailor Moon's still been a huge part of my life. And I never did stop writing. This story will contain various (unconnected) drabbles written either for the Usako_Mamoru anniversary challenges on LiveJournal, or for the amazing landcomm LJ community, SailorMoonLand (Team Outers, represent!). And maybe after my real-life stuff is finally in order, I can try my hand at writing something more than just drabbles again. Until then, I hope you enjoy these (and they aren't too terrible - it's been so long that my writing is a bit rusty! ^^;), even though some of them are just... plain weird (they were CHALLENGES! SHHHH!)._

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><p><strong>1. they were constantly<em> dancing<em> around each other.**  
>[Valentine's Day, dance.]<br>Words: 745

She felt his eyes follow hers from across the room and immediately fought the urge to look his way. His mouth opened slightly, as if there was something he had been itching to say, but as he had done several times that week, he closed it, turning around to reach for another cup of coffee. A minute later, his fingers started drumming against the counter, a constant _tap-tap-tapping_, and once again, in spite of the millions of other sounds reverberating throughout the room, Usagi could hear nothing else.

She wasn't sure when their interactions had changed, but somehow, her paths had stopped intersecting his and their sporadic collisions had suddenly ceased. He was no longer running into her at random intervals throughout the day, and their casual, constant, heated bickering no longer occurred. He didn't make it his priority to seek her out, insult her hair or poke fun at her latest failure, and for some reason, the absence stung. Familiar scowls, jolting exchanges, fingers slightly brushing against each other as two forces grappled for the upper hand... And then nothing. She sighed, absentmindedly fingering his initials onto the surface of the table as her heart started beating heavily against her chest. What was happening?

She watched him through the corner of her eye, noticing how he kept biting his lip. A nervous twitch later, he started to brush his hand through his hair, once again blatantly attempting to communicate something—_anything_, but still nothing. She crossed her legs and he stretched his arm toward her. She leaned into her milkshake and his legs jerked in her direction. She blinked; his eye twitched. He sighed; she clenched her eyes shut. It was a strange battle, these motions of fidgets and fumbles and palpable glances—a dance that had sprung about so impulsively that neither of them knew just how to approach it. Should they flirt with it, challenge it, see where these new quakes and quirks would take them? Or should they continue the way they had begun, inching so very closely one second and then fleeing miles apart?

Absentmindedly, her own fingers started tapping, the sound chiming perfectly with its parallel on the opposite side of the room. "Do something!" her mind commanded, but she ignored it, worrying what would happen if the cycle just ended. They didn't talk to each other, the random encounters had stopped, and these strange oscillations were her only means of consistency. Beside her, Luna rolled her eyes, echoing her own earlier thoughts. "For God's sake, just talk to him!" But the blonde refused adamantly. The drumming on the other end intensified, and sending him another cursory glance, she noticed that his fingers were now swirling the coffee mug haphazardly. Unknowingly, her own glass began to vibrate, rotating rapidly on the surface of the table. _Twisting_ and _turning_ and _tapping_ and _twirling _and—

_Crash._

"_Mamoru_! What the hell did you do?" Motoki shouted.

"I just—"

But before he could continue the sentence, a similar sound echoed from several feet away and the blonde beside him shrieked once more.

"Motoki, I'm so sorry I—" Usagi started, but again, he interrupted.

"No, no, _no_!" he growled. "I've had enough of this!"

"Enough of what?" they both asked, but he pointedly ignored them. Instead, he stormed out from behind the counter, grabbed one of Usagi's hands and shoved it into Mamoru's. Mamoru arched a brow as if questioning if his friend had finally lost his sanity, but Motoki glared back and started pushing the two of them out the door. "I am _sick_ of the twitching and squirming, and I swear if I have to hear that irritating, never-ending noise again, I'll go nuts! And_ really_, the way you two mimic each other, you'd think you were soul mates!"

Usagi blinked. Mamoru considered retorting, but again, his friend silenced him. "Just stay away from here until you're done flittering around each other, okay?" Annoyed, he closed the door, and the two of them were left standing outside the arcade, hand in hand, gawkily waiting for the other to make a move.

"So... what do we do now?" she wondered out loud, unwittingly thumping a foot against the ground.

He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand before interlocking her fingers with his own. "Want to dance?" he blurted, face flushed. She laughed and hesitantly shuffled herself into his arms, noting that this time—gradually—they moved perfectly in-step.

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><p><em><span>Notes<span>: Thought I'd start with a relatively...sane one. XD More to follow soon! Thanks for reading! Take care, everyone! :)_


	2. he always wanted to know her

****2. he always wanted to _know_ her.**  
><strong>[Science, pop quiz.]  
>Words: 659<p>

The first time it happens, it's Umino, just a lonely guy in the blonde's class who would really like a chance with her. He doesn't know why the boy would come to _him_, of all people (He had no relationship with her, he hardly even knew her, and wouldn't Motoki be a better candidate for this sort of thing anyway?), but he does, and he's desperate, and for some reason, Mamoru feels the urge to help him. So he asks him random questions, the oddest pop quiz he's ever taken, and Mamoru finds himself trying to help, to guess correctly, hoping that somehow he'd help this poor sap actually get the girl. Smart guys never seem to be able to, and he'd love it if just one—any one—finally did.

The second time, it catches him off guard. He's studying for his exams, absent-mindedly considering this situation with Sailor Moon and how a part of him can't help but feel attracted to her, when several guys—three or four—come up to him, begging him for more answers. Apparently, Umino hadn't succeeded, but the stuff he'd done for Usagi, the advice he'd received from Mamoru (to buy her pink roses, take her somewhere pretty and with sweets, basic stuff that anyone could have gathered from eavesdropping on the girl's conversations or listening to her when she opened her mouth to flagrantly drool at his best mate) had made her squeal, and that, somehow, meant it was successful. So he puts his books aside, attempts to not appear irritated, and talks himself into spouting out more advice, random nonsense about bunnies and milkshakes and world peace, stuff he only feels obligated to say just because it would be unfair to help one guy out and not another.

By the third time, it's obvious that his advice is crap, and a new group of boys are eager to tell him to his face just what they'd accomplish without him. He doesn't really understand _why_—he, certainly, never claimed to be an Odango expert—but they manage to irk him so much that he ends up challenging them. He tells them that he'd discover more stuff about her, stuff that they'd never dream of knowing, even if they were dating the girl. When they interpret his words the only way immature, adolescent boys interpret things, he rages at them, brandishing his fist, and scares them out of the building, later wondering why he'd even reacted this way. It's _Sailor Moon_, he reminds himself, who has captured his fancy, not Odango. So why can't he get her out of his head?

When it happens again, he can't help but offer purposefully outrageous suggestions. It's not that he likes Odango, he tells himself, or that he cares if these moronic teenagers finally capture her heart, or whatever else they're after (Mamoru shudders), but that he somehow cares about her, and she shouldn't have to be stuck with idiotic guys who don't appreciate the... unique, insane, beautiful girl that she is. So he watches as they try and fail and glare, completely satisfied by the terrified expression on Usagi's face. All's fair in love and war, right?

In the end, he's the one initiating the never-ending questions, inquiring her hopes and dreams and random desires. They speak about anything and everything—each other's fears, thoughts, and even random opinions on ridiculously odd subjects. She tells him she'd do anything in the world to be able to fly, to soar through the skies and feel the air as it brushes against her face. He tells her he'd do anything in his power to catch her when she falls. She smiles at him, then, fingers entwined with his, and he wonders if subconsciously, this is what he'd wanted all along.

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><p><em><span>Notes<span>: Glad so many people added this on story alert! (Though I'd love to hear what you think of the drabbles as well, so please feel free to drop me a line!) Thank you for reading!_


	3. she already had a prince charming

**3. (whether she knew it or not) she already had a prince charming.  
><strong>[Literature, conflict.]  
>Words: 357<p>

Mamoru clenched his fist in irritation as the brown-haired boy's face inched closer to Odango's. He knew they were only practicing for a school assignment, some fairytale play or another, but the thought of that irritating guy being close enough to place his lips upon hers was enough to infuriate him.

"What are you looking at, Mamoru-san?" Natsumi asked, smiling in what he thought was a flirtatious manner, but it did nothing for him.

He attempted to smile back, trying to just _ignore_ the little rehearsal going on right behind him, but it was so _difficult_.

If he just _threw_ something at the back of that idiot's head, their "moment" would be interrupted and Usagi would be able to escape. And then he could step right in and sweep the girl off her feet and maybe take the guy's place (disregarding the fact that he didn't even go to their school and no one would ever allow a random older stranger to play the male lead) and kiss the girl senseless... It would be amazing; it would be magical; it would be...

"Mamoru? Mamoru?"

Mamoru looked up, realizing that Natsumi was still talking to him (and that he should have been helping her with her math homework, like he had volunteered to do just seconds after Usagi had shown up at the arcade holding Ginga Seijuuro's hand). Though he felt conflicted (common courtesy dictated that he stick around and finish the session before acting rashly, but if he didn't do anything soon, he was sure he'd _implode_), he nervously excused himself for five minutes under the pretense of having to use the restroom. When she (or anyone else) wasn't looking, he sneaked to the booth right behind Usagi and Seijuuro's, and, inconspicuously nicking a jelly donut from a nearby table, he flung the thing at the guy's face and ducked, hitting him directly on the nose. As Seijuuro shouted expletives, scanning the room hysterically for the invisible culprit and eventually having to excuse himself to clean the dessert off of his skin, Mamoru grinned.

There would be no other Princes in Odango's life on _his_ watch.

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><p><em><span>Notes<span>: If you have a request (or you really like/hate what you're reading), feel free to drop me a line and review. I don't bite - I promise!_


	4. they made the perfect fairytale

_Author's Note__: This one references that one episode from Sailor Moon R, in which Usagi tries to jump-start Mamoru's memory by drawing him some really cute sketches and telling him the story of their past (so naturally, he thought she was a crazy girl who liked to color and tell fantastical fairy-tales). Hopefully that was obvious?_

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><p><strong>4. they made the perfect fairytale.<strong>  
>[Art, sketch.]<br>Words: 510

He grasped the tiny hand tightly, afraid that if he were to let go, the little girl staring at him with so much wonder would vanish. He'd been doing nothing more than just looking at the baby, occasionally making faces and sometimes having relatively one-sided conversations with her (though the newborn occasionally waved her hands or nodded, and he swore she'd understood every word), since he'd come home, and if no one interrupted them soon, he'd probably still continue talking and cooing into the next day, maybe even the next week. "Hullo, Chibi-usa. It's me, Daddy. _Dad-dy._"

"Mamo-chan, she's barely a week old!" his wife exclaimed from the doorway, amused. "She's not going to be talking anytime soon."

He laughed, still playing with his daughter's fingers. "Haha, I know, Usako. But that's okay. I just like talking to her."

At that, Usagi smiled, deciding to let him finish up his "talk" before it would be time to put Chibi-usa to sleep. When she returned an hour later, however, Mamoru was still deeply engrossed in some conversation with her, and their baby girl couldn't seem to get enough of it. She was about to remind him of the time, knowing he wouldn't stop of his own accord, but then Chibi-usa's lips curved upward—ever so slightly—in an attempt to smile (_Was that even possible for a newborn?!_), and Usagi found herself basking in the sight. Apparently, Mamoru felt the same way because suddenly, he was speaking even more vigorously, his voice a little louder, while flashing some... meticulously colored drawings into the air.

"What are you... What are you doing?" she finally questioned, causing Mamoru to pause mid-sentence and blush madly, looking very much like a deer caught in headlights.

"Er... _Nothing_?"

She arched a brow, pointing at the pieces of paper haphazardly discarded beside him on the bed. "Nothing? _Really_?"

His face grew redder. "That's... It's just... I was just telling her a story. A bed time story."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and I had these convenient illustrations," he explained. "I couldn't _not _use them. That would be... wasteful."

"Right." While he nodded, assuming that she had just agreed to whatever nonsense he was spouting, she grabbed the sheets off the bed, only to eye them incredulously a second later, and blush just as madly as her husband had been a moment ago. "_Oh god_. These are... I can't believe you kept them!"

He laughed, brandishing the sketch he was currently holding in his hand. "Of course I kept them! With talent like _this_—" Mamoru pointed at the figures of a sloppily colored princess and a (literally) big-headed prince making eyes (or rather, hearts) at each other. "—Why _wouldn't_ I keep them?!" And before she could ask him anything else, he continued to entertain and amuse their daughter with his tales (to the complete chagrin of his wife), telling her next about a silly, adorable girl and a stupid amnesiac boy who couldn't even recognize his life story when it hit him in the face (in the form of some very amusing doodles).

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><p><em><span>Note<span>__: Sorry I'm so behind on this. I have... about thirty more to post. But if you have any prompt requests, I'm up for those as well! Thank you for reading!_


	5. she made him completely insane

_Author's Note__: _A rake is a historic term applied to a man who is habituated to immoral conduct, frequently a heartless womanizer.__

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><p><strong>4. she made him completely insane.<strong>  
>[Literature, books.]<br>Words: 763

Mamoru gaped, eying the object incredulously. All he had wanted to do was see what it was Odango had refused to show him, but _this_... this was unexpected. It was _supposed_ to be something amusing—another failed exam or a detention slip or just _something_ that made sense, but a... BOOK? Of _this_variety? What could she possibly do with something like this?

_'How to Ravish a Rake, a systematic guide for the young and hopelessly in love_.'

The more he read the title, the greater his disbelief (and irritation grew). Part of him was impressed that Usagi had been reading something that was clearly a manual, and something she wouldn't need to read for class (so she was actually reading for _pleasure_!), but a bigger part of him wanted to scream in fury. _What could she... How would she... WHY would she even need to know how to "ravish a rake"?!_Did she even know what a rake was? And WHO would write such a book?! He was sure the word 'rake' in this context (unless, of course, Odango desired to 'ravish' a garden tool?) was obsolete in the English language. Which brought him to yet _another_ question... She knew English? She could actually _read_this book? He couldn't even fathom the thought! How had he missed such an important (well, maybe most people wouldn't think it important, but such things mattered to Mamoru) detail, with the amount of Odango watching (stalking) he did every day?!

And lastly... What exactly did she mean '_ravish_'? His face reddened at the thought of the petite blonde girl in another's arms, somehow seducing the obscenely charming bloke (Mamoru growled. This was ridiculous. _His_ Odango was far too innocent to seduce ANYONE. As far as he knew, she hadn't even been on a date! Teenagers these days were shameless, but _this_ was absolutely ludicrous!) with a flutter of her long eyelashes and an inviting smile. The mental image was enough to make his blood boil. His fists clenched, teeth gritting, as he silently vowed to seek out every possible 'rake' in the country (or anyone who appeared to be English or American or... rakish in any way possible) and keep them away from _his_girl. There would be no seduction at all—not on his watch!

"Er... Mamoru-baka? What are you doing?" Usagi inquired, tilting her head in confused.

He blushed, stammering as he attempted to find the proper words to explain how he didn't _mean_to go through her belongings, but she had left her book behind in the booth and he just wanted to see what it was (without making it sound like he was a psychotic stalker).

However, before he could utter a word, Usagi's eyes widened. Reaching for something beside him, she exclaimed, "Ah! I can't believe I left without this!" Her face was red, and before he could even notice what the apparently embarrassing (or incriminating) item was, she grabbed it and began to race away.

Mamoru blinked, baffled. "So it... wasn't hers after all?" he murmured to himself.

Noticing the strange, dazed, and slightly relieved expression upon his best friend's face and the blonde running away from the building, Motoki clapped him on the back in understanding. "Had another run in with Usagi-chan, huh?"

When he didn't reply, still muttering, "It's okay; it wasn't hers," as if in a trance, Motoki took the opportunity to study the book he was still holding in his arms. "_How to Ravish a Rake_," he said slowly. "Is this what Usagi was teasing you about? I mean, I... didn't know you, er, swung that way. (Or anyone else for that matter. Is that even _legal_?)"

"What?" Mamoru finally asked, realizing his friend was speaking to him.

"Uhh, _nothing_," he said quickly. "Your nighttime activities are no one else's business. Really. And I'll tell Usagi to leave you alone about that, okay? This is between you and your... garden-ware." Not wanting to discuss this odd subject any further, Motoki dashed to the other end of the arcade, leaving an even more uncertain Mamoru in his wake.

Half a minute later, having just recovered from the heart attack and relief Usagi simultaneously had given him earlier, Mamoru shrieked in realization. "NO WAIT, MOTOKI. THIS ISN'T WHAT YOU THINK IT IS!"

It wasn't until hours later, after he had chased his friend and explained the stupid book to him, that he realized he _still_ didn't know what Odango had been hiding. (And the fact that he knew Motoki didn't seriously accept any of his explanations only frustrated him further.)

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><p><em><span>Note<span>__: ...I have no idea what was wrong with me when I wrote this. Er... sorry (but isn't playing with Mamoru's brain kind of fun?). Anyway, please please please review! And happy holidays/new year! (:_


	6. he found her absolutely breathtaking

_Author's Note__: Inspired by my absolute favorite episode of the first season of _Instant Star_, though I changed the ending just because I always thought it should have ended the way I ended it and I'm using Usagi/Mamoru to fulfill my... er, unfulfilled Jude/Tommy fantasies. (Kudos to you if you're actually familiar with the show. And can guess the episode this scene is very reminiscent of.)_

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><p><strong>6. he found her absolutely breathtaking.<strong>  
>[Christmas, New Year's Eve; star, party, midnight.]<br>Words: 724

Mamoru searched for her from across the room, immediately smiling as he spotted her fluttering blonde hair heading away from the party toward the balcony. Though her back was turned to him, an elegant white gown draped around her petite frame, he couldn't help but feel flustered. _'Absolutely breathtaking...'_ It had been months since they had become sort-of-friends, and he had been looking forward to this occasion far more than he'd ever admit. He knew she was seeing someone, acknowledged that it was her special day and she probably wanted to spend it chattering with all of her friends, but he was _itching_ to dance with her—at least once—before he could chase the urge away, talk himself out of it, and understand that Usagi and he were better off as friends anyway, no matter how attracted he was to her.

He smoothed out his black vest, making sure to leave the collar of his shirt just slightly unbuttoned, as he walked toward her. He was surprised to see that she was alone, the most silent he had ever seen her, until he noticed that her cheeks were flushed with tears. "Usa?" He raced to her, his hand brushing gently against the side of her face, gradually guiding her to meet his eyes. "Usa, what happened?"

She clenched her eyes shut, trying to force the tears away so that she wouldn't cry in front of him, but to no avail. Droplets flittered from her eyes, and though she tried to turn away from him, to tell him to enjoy her "sweet" sixteen without her, he held her in place, urging her to tell him what was wrong so that he could help her. Finally, she whispered, "He broke up with me. Met someone else." She rested her head against his shoulder, no longer able to completely face him.

Every one of his instincts told him to seek out the insensitive bastard and punch him into the next century for utterly demolishing the poor girl's birthday, but the soft sniffles coming from beside him reminded him that she needed him more right now. He moved to take her into his arms, disregarding the fact that the sky, sensing the melancholic atmosphere, had begun to thunder and rain and if they stayed out there any longer, they would be drenched. "Usa—"

"Go ahead, Mamoru," Usagi mumbled listlessly, "Tell me 'I told you so.'"

He ignored her, removing his jacket to place upon her shaking shoulders. After he had placed the satin barrier between her and the raging sky, Mamoru looked at her, attempting to quiet her barely-audible whimpers with the emotions racing through his eyes. He didn't understand how this amazing girl—how anyone, really—couldn't see how beautiful, how funny, how so-bloody-adorable she was. "For what it's worth, he's a fool, and an idiot, and he made the wrong choice."

She pushed his arm away, turning her gaze instead to the scintillating stars overhead. "It's not worth much coming from you," she said after a while.

Mamoru stared, greatly offended. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She refused to look at him. "I'm so tired of falling for guys that don't fall back."

"Usa—" He tried to reach out for her again, but she pulled away.

"It hurts. You all say the greatest things. You're so sweet, you're so nice, but none of you want to date me. So you want to help me, Mamoru?" she challenged. "Tell me what I do wrong. Tell me why I'm so easy to give up and then maybe I can fix it."

Her voice was quivering, rain drops mingling with the salt water already present on her face. Her breathing was becoming shallower, her cheeks flushed with a combination of utter mortification, resentment, and resignation, and in spite of it all, he was completely captivated. Before his voice of reason could stop him, before he could even fully grasp what it was she was trying to tell him, his hand reached out, palm settling against her face, and his lips pressed firmly upon hers.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, seconds later, hoping he hadn't just destroyed whatever relationship they had had previously, but Usagi just looked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time, and this time her lips reached for his, submerging their bodies in the midnight storm.

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><p><em><span>Note<span>__: Slightly late for Valentine's Day, but I thought I could still get away with sneaking in a romantic-ish update. Hope everyone had an awesome day, and thank you so much for reading, and as always, please review with all of your thoughts/feelings because I'd love to hear them. If you have any prompts for me, I'm always welcome to suggestions. (And a thank you to Artemis the Moon Maiden for your prompt request. I'll certainly fulfill it—I like a jealous Mamoru as much as the next person—but after I make it through the many drabbles I've already written that I have to post. Thanks so much!)_


	7. they fit together perfectly

_Author's Note__: Hints of... stuff, but not very graphic (because I don't want to change the rating, and honestly, I'd be awful at writing anything more detailed - trust me, you don't want to see that). Sorry if it's kind of awkward, but... I tried?_

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><p><strong>7. they fit together perfectly.<strong>  
>[Math, sum]<br>Words: 304

He kissed her deeply, enveloping her in every way possible, and she moaned softly beneath his intoxicating touch. Lips mingled with skin, fingers brushed through silk tendrils, limbs entwined, and for a few moments of utter bliss, Endymion found himself smiling, completely at peace—perhaps for the first time in a while. It had been _too_long since he'd last had this, since she'd last been _here_ with _him_ in their bedchambers, and he would be damned before he let anyone take this away from him.

"Darling? Are you alright?" Serenity prompted, pausing her ministrations to wonder why her husband was suddenly grinning so goofily.

"I just realized that this is the first time in ages that I've had you all to myself." Laughing at the strange, completely exhilarating thought, he abruptly captured her lips (and effectively silenced whatever comment she had meant to make), picking up right where she had left off. "Sometimes, I swear I should just lock you in here with me, and never let you leave."

She laughed, meeting him halfway, and right as he was about to claim her once more, two small pink-haired Odango peered into the room. Swiftly, his wife extracted herself from her husband, leaping onto the other side of the bed, the sheets wrapped firmly around her, prepared to face their little intruder.

"Mama, Papa, I had a bad dream." Terrified and teary-eyed, their daughter sniffled, already crawling onto the bed directly between her parents. "Is it okay if I sleep here with you?"

Serenity smiled encouragingly, wrapping her arms around the little girl tightly, and before he could even grasp the situation (and how all his planning had suddenly gone to hell), the two fell asleep, cuddled together, leaving Endymion alone on the other side, neglected and baffled, and so utterly... _frustrated_.

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><p><em><span>Note<span>__: Sorry it's on the shorter side (I have a handful of relatively short ones, about 200-400 words, that I've been avoiding posting because of the length, but I figured I should probably start getting those out of the way). As usual, thank you so much for reading, and if you have any prompts, feel free to throw them my way. Please please please review! Happy March! (:_


	8. he was always falling into her

_Author's Note__: Sorry the update took a while! I'm trying to sort out where I'm going to law school next year, so a little preoccupied. This was meant to be a shorter drabble just because I seriously have SO many short ones that I need to get posting (and I don't want there to be like thirty really short chapters, so I was going for some kind of short-long pattern), but because it took forever, I decided to just give you one of the few longer ones (I think I'm out of the really long ones) I have left. But I'll try to be more prompt in the future!_

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><p><strong>8. (maybe it's fate but) he was always falling into her<strong>  
>[Literature, poem]<br>Words: 492

_Roses are red, violets are blue.  
>You're kind of gorgeous, and I think I might like you.<em>

Mamoru stared at the ridiculous rhyme some frustrated teenager had left in his booth at the arcade, trying to figure out what it was about the stupid piece of paper that bothered him most. It was cliche, it was short, and the words virtually meant nothing. (He was positive that at least six million of the billions of people in the world gave someone similar notes every day, and how special was _that_?!) And yet, here it was, sitting in front of him, probably meant for some girl. Obviously, either the boy decided the cheesy notion wasn't worth his dignity, or he shamelessly chickened out.

"Mamoru-baka, what are you doing?"

He turned around abruptly to see Usagi's teasing face grinning up at him, milkshake in hand (at this, he smiled), and then suddenly remembered the stupid poem in his hand. Mamoru spluttered, not wanting her to see it and think that he himself was composing the thing for someone (seriously, he would never write a girl something _this_ uncreative) or that a random girl had handed it to him and he actually appreciated the gesture. However, because he now resembled a "deer caught in headlights", and she noticed that he seemed to be anxious to hide _something_ behind his back, Usagi leaped onto the table and attempted to swiftly grab whatever was in his hand. He struggled, unsure why he didn't want her to see it (and why he couldn't just explain what it was and how ridiculous he thought such unoriginal gestures were), and the two of them ended up mock-wrestling in the arcade booth. He pushed her lightly, just enough to get her off of him, but because he miscalculated her strength, he fell upon her, chest to chest, arms flailing and legs entwined in hers. His lips were maybe a millimeter away, and for a second, he considered kissing her...

...Until he vaguely heard Motoki's voice behind them and remembered that the two of them were in a public location. Jumping off of her, as if burned, he bolted out the door, calling out, "Er, sorry for that, Odango. I don't know what came over me," over his shoulder.

Bewildered, Usagi watched him leave. As she brushed herself off, a small piece of paper to the right of her hand caught her eye. Thought it was folded in half, it was angled directly toward her, as if someone had intended for her to read it. Opening it slowly, she unveiled... a poem?

_Roses are red, violets are blue.  
>You're kind of gorgeous, and I think I might like you.<em>

Remembering Mamoru's pained expression and how he had been anxious to keep something hidden from her, she quickly connected the dots, smiling to herself as she tucked the poem into her bag.

Maybe this "playing hard to get" thing was working after all...

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><p><em><span>Note<span>__: Anonymous love notes can totally bring a completely different couple together, right? (Maybe Mamoru's subconscious wrote the note? Maybe this takes place in the anime, back when he had blackouts and didn't know he was Tuxedo Kamen, and his alter-ego wrote the note? Haha, I dunno, you decide.) Thanks for reading! If you have any prompts, feel free to request a drabble. Next update will be in a week or two (at most), I swear! (It'll be shorter though, but hopefully as interesting.) Please review!_


	9. she was always smashing into him

****9. she was always _smashing_ into him.**  
><strong>[Art, brush.]  
>Words: 254<strong><br>**

Fingers brush, the softest of touches, as she races past him as she does every morning, their daily routine. A strand of gold briefly flutters against his face, and as his eyes close, two seconds before he can feel the force of the collision, she's everywhere-bare legs grazing his, hand resting upon his shoulder, head against his chest. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks he should do something, tease her as usual, lift her petite form off of his own, just... _anything_, but her weight, her touch, that damn alluring strawberries and cream scent renders him immobile and mute and utterly _stupid_.

Seconds turn to minutes and as he feels her stirring, groaning and apologizing profusely, he can't help but wonder what it would feel like for her lips to brush against him as well, like a butterfly fluttering its wings upon his skin or a car crash (much like the force of her collisions—he still wonders how such a petite person can possibly knock anyone over as often and as aggressively as she does) against his mouth. He leans in, fingers inches away from cradling her head, and—

She leaps off of him abruptly, uttering another, "Gomen ne!" without looking back, and Mamoru can't help but stare, utterly dazed, the feel of her body against his own engraved in his memory.

On the other side of the street, a flustered blonde grins, blushing madly. _Just another collision or two, and perhaps he'll finally take the plunge and just kiss her..._

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><p><em><span>Note<span>__: Oh, Usagi... Whatever works, right? Not the shortest one, but I liked the parallelism with the last one, so I knew I had to post this next. Thank you for reading, and please please review!_


	10. (against all logic) they made sense

****10. (against all logic, against all odds) they made sense.**  
><strong>[Art, oil.]  
>Words: 263<strong><br>**

Sometimes Motoki didn't understand it. Usagi and Mamoru were probably the two most contrary people he had ever met, completely like oil and water, and yet, they seemed to click better than any other couple he had ever seen. He wasn't a huge believer in fate, but the way they looked at each other, as if they each physically held the other's heart in hand, made him think of nothing else.

_'Strangely,' _he mused, '_l__ike soul-mates.'_

And it was strange because before it had happened, he hadn't even considered the thought of the two of them together. Or even Mamoru in love, for that matter. Not that anyone could blame him. Usagi was... loud, energetic, social, as bright as the sun in the sky. His friend, on the other hand, rarely cracked a smile (though, Motoki noted, he didn't seem to have that problem anymore, as long as his girlfriend was around), far too focused, reserved, and rather reclusive. So of course, when they finally did meet, they clashed, doing nothing but arguing and insulting and shouting, and who knows what else (Motoki nearly gagged at that thought—seeing them now, he didn't really want to know what "else" they had done). So naturally, they shouldn't have mingled, they shouldn't have worked, they shouldn't have... _made sense._

Yet, somehow, they _did_, and watching Mamoru lean into Usagi's embrace, lips stretching into the most genuine smile he had ever seen on the guy's face, Motoki couldn't really imagine the two any other way.

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><p><em><span>Note<span>__: A random sweet outside-observation drabble. (I always like to wonder Motoki's thoughts about them, since we have little indication he has any real idea they're dating. But you'd have to be blind to miss all of Usagi and Mamoru's epic-yet-total-fail so-freaking-flirtatious encounters, right?) Anyway, thank you for reading and pleaseeee review! (:_


	11. she held his heart

****11. she held his heart (before she even realized it).**  
><strong>[Math, problem.]  
>Words: 254<strong><br>**

She gazes at him with such intensity, an obvious question in her eyes, and all he wants to do is embrace her and let her know that yes, yes, he cares for her more than any "would-be enemy" should. But how can she expect otherwise? She's amazing, with the way that even though she clearly isn't the most gifted warrior, she's still so persistent, so dedicated that she could probably save the world entirely with a single tear-drop. He loves that she _cares_ with her whole being, thinking more clearly with her heart than her head in this innocent, genuine way and still leaving every battle triumphant. He admires her, this warrior who really doesn't need him at all, and he knows that she feels something stronger for him, that she might possibly even _like_ him.

And he _wants_ to be with her in that way. Tuxedo Kamen and Sailor Moon. It would be _perfect_ and _epic_ and _incredible_, and hell, he was completely attracted to her, more than he probably _should_ be... (_How old is this girl anyway?!_)

But no matter how much his body can't help but respond to her, no matter how much he was _dying_ to taste her, he refused. For a certain Odango (_his _Odango) with a scintillating smile already has his heart and will _always_ have his heart (even though she hasn't realized it yet), and even if it took another lifetime for him to _finally_ kiss her, he'd rather die a thousand deaths than ever betray her.

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><p><em><span>Note<span>__: Takes place before they knew each other's identities (in case that wasn't clear). I meant to post this a few days ago, but didn't have much computer access. Thanks for (still) reading and please review!_


	12. (a single glance and) he was helpless

****12. (a single glance and) he was absolutely helpless.**  
><strong>[Science, element.]  
>Words: 290<strong><br>**

_Beautiful._ It's ridiculous and strange and absolutely _sick_ that it's the first thing that comes to mind when he sees her, but at this point, after so much suffering, he can't really think at all. She's lying on the ground, stains of red all over her torn fuku, her skin snow white beneath the copper hue, and he's just standing there, absolutely frozen, transfixed, intrigued, and so completely... _ridiculous_.

_'What the hell are you doing, Endymion? You're nearly done. Attack her!'_

He nods to himself, reaching for the sword in his hand, but as she closes her eyes, struggling to breathe, he finds himself staring again, immobile.

_'What is wrong with me? Why can't I kill her?'_

She stirs beside him, still gasping for breath, as he ponders what it is about her that prevents his body from reacting the way it should. He _should_ be fulfilling Beryl's orders, he _should_ be taking her life and the Ginzuishou—killing two birds with one stone—and yet, he... _can't_. One glance at her, and he's completely helpless, unable to do what it is he thinks he must, his _duty_, because something about the sight of this gorgeous warrior dying is messing with him, and he can't tear his eyes away.

"_Aishiteru_, Mamo-chan." She weakly smiles, fingers grasping his, and though he never does strike her one last time, she collapses, eyes closing in surrender.

Endymion staggers, suddenly in incredible pain. This should have been his moment, triumphant and accomplished and everything so many others, even Beryl herself, could not attain. Instead, he feels _agony_, intense, fiery, and unrelenting—the cry of his soul as it shatters, weeping without restraint for its other half.

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><p><em><span>Note<span>__: If you couldn't tell, this was based on a scene in the manga, and loosely based on its parallel in the anime. Updating today because I am INSANELY excited about the fact that _Kingdom Hearts III_ is currently in development, and random bouts of fangirliness, mixed with the utter sadness that this will be the last Kingdom Hearts game ever lead to the posting of... kind of depressing pieces like this. Er... thanks for reading and please review! Happy June, everyone!_


	13. he was her heart, she'd carry his always

_Author's Note: A very very happy birthday to our favorite Odango-haired Moon Princess, Tsukino Usagi! (Also, I know, if you've noticed the pattern in the chapter titles, this one should technically be a 'they' title. I tried it, but it came out SO cheesy or weird-sounding that I had to do away with it. To stay within the pattern, however, I he/she'd it just to keep it a 'they' title without actually using the word 'they'... if that makes any sense. If this kind of stuff even matters to anyone else at all, haha.)_

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><p><strong><strong>13. he was her heart; she'd carry his forever.<strong>  
><strong>[Art, clay, birthday.]  
>Words: 370<strong><br>**

He bit his lip in apprehension, waves of exhaustion and frustration evident upon his face. He had been working in this studio for hours, fingers caked with clay, merely attempting to create something _perfect_ for his girlfriend, but to no avail. He was a scientist, a mathematician, a scholar, dammit, and he had absolutely no artistic skill whatsoever. Or a single creative bone in his body.

"Are you done yet, Mamoru?"

Ignoring Motoki (and trying to prevent him from looking over his shoulder), Mamoru pounded the material in his hands, rolling and molding and attempting for probably the fiftieth time in the last hour to get it right. Whatever "right" was he wasn't sure. All he wanted was to mold Usagi something to show her he cared, something that would let her know just how much she meant to him. Her birthday was approaching and she hadn't hinted at_anything_, and the last time he subtly asked her, she merely claimed that she wanted something "from his heart", something personal—whatever _that_ meant.

And now, here he was, trapped in this hell as his jerk of a best friend mocked him.

"Mamoru?" Motoki poked him, sending the clay in his hands flying onto the ceiling.

"What?" He gritted his teeth, reminding himself that there were witnesses present.

"...Why are you making a Pokemon? Is that supposed to be romantic?"

"IT'S USAGI, YOU MORON. She's... She's a princess."

"But it looks like Jigglypuff!" Noticing that his face was cherry-red and steam was practically coming out of his ears, Motoki backed away slowly.

Mamoru waved his fist at his irritating friend, and then, releasing some sort of primal cry, he grabbed another handful of clay and began again.

The next day, when he presented his blonde princess with a lopsided clay heart, _"Zettai ni mamoru"_ scratched into the center, she leaped into his arms and kissed him, not even caring that a four-year-old could have done better, or that Motoki had guaranteed that it was the most pathetic piece of artwork he'd ever seen. Apparently, all she had wanted was his heart, and even though it was kind of crooked and made of stone, it was still the best gift she'd ever received.

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><p><em><span>Note<span>__: Assuming my Japanese (which comes entirely from J-pop love songs and subbed anime) is correct, "_Zettai ni mamoru_" means something along the lines of "I will always/unconditionally protect you". I wanted to use his name on the heart because I am a total sap and wanted her to literally carry a heart with his name on it (so it's like _his_ heart, aside from the fact that it is actually a heart that he made her and it strongly resembles the state she found his heart in when they first met... Shhhh! I _know_ I'm being ridiculously sentimental right now. This is what happens when you've listened to Mamoru Miyano's song, _WONDER LOVE_ on repeat for... like, ten hours (he's my favorite seiyuu and I never knew he sang before and now I'm even more in love with his voice than I ever was and this is awful... you should all go listen to that song because it's SO CUTE and his voice is SO PERFECT and AHHH!)._

_ANYWAY... happy almost July, everyone! Thank you for reading and please review! And go enjoy a milkshake or some dumplings in Usagi's honor!_


End file.
